


Garden of love

by PerriewinkleNerdie



Category: Open Heart (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 20:33:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20606879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerriewinkleNerdie/pseuds/PerriewinkleNerdie
Summary: Garden out back can hide a lot of things, including their passion





	Garden of love

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, hello, hello!  
This fic got created out of the idea from a giveaway :D  
The idea was to tease our favorite attending a little (a lot) and then to use a certain line, which I am not going to put here, so that I don’t spoil you the fun of the idea :D  
I did some (okay, maybe a little more than some) sinning here, you have been warned  
Enjoy! <3

The medical ball was one of the most prestigious social affairs one could be invited to. From each medical institution in Boston there were four representatives, chosen carefully. This year, from Edenbrook, Naveen, Harper, Ethan and Claire were chosen, all for their own reasons, but the common thread was that they w well-known in the medical environment.

The night was dark and late. Harper, Naveen and Ethan were waiting for Claire, who had an emergency with one of her patients and was running late. Ethan had his back to the door, so he didn’t see her walking in, but the other two did. Harper smiled and Naveen looked at him and smirked. Seeing Ethan’s reaction would be a pure pleasure. The attending turned around, confused, only to have his heart stopped by her.

Claire was walking towards them, dressed in an emerald green dress that stopped right above her knee, made out of a soft, puffy material that fell from her natural waist. Her neck and top part of her chest were exposed, adorning her beautifully, an elegant necklace falling from her neck. Her hair pinned away from her face, black heels elongating her legs. He couldn’t look away, his mind in a daze as his eyes traveled slowly up her body, imagining what she’d look like without the green material hugging her.

Actually, he didn’t have to imagine it, he knew exactly what he would see if he took her hand right then and there and led her to one of the rooms in the back and have his way with her.

“Claire, so nice of you to join us this fine evening! I hope you didn’t have too much trouble at the hospital?” Naveen spoke up, taking her hand in his, patting it softly, giving Ethan that precious time he needed to get himself together.

“It was a little tricky, but we got it under control. Sorry for being late.”

“Nothing to worry about, we didn’t mind waiting for you. Isn’t that right, Ethan?” Harper gave him a side glance, an amused smile on her face. He felt the air being sucked out of his lungs, like a kick to his stomach.

“Um- yes, no problem, Dr. Herondale.” She ran her gaze along his face, trying to read him, failing at it.

They found their places by the tables, Naveen and Harper on one side, Ethan and Claire on the other. The idea to sit them down like this was entirely on the people organizing the ball. While Ethan was desperately trying to not think about how close she was sitting to him, and how easy it would be to just lean over and kiss her, the other pair was happily conversing, not paying them any attention. For the past two weeks they were giving in to their desires, deciding they no longer wanted to fight what was between them. While they still had to sneak around, that didn’t stop them from meeting as often as they could, his place, her place, when her roommates were gone, his office, which quickly became their favorite place to spend their time together when they were unable to meet outside of the hospital.

They were pushing their boundaries, testing how far they could go. Claire used to be a little shy, but under the affections and attention from Ethan, she bloomed like a flower. A wild, confident and a little adventurous flower, unafraid to live a little. He opened up by her side too, discovering parts of himself that he didn’t know existed. Even now, surrounded by all those people, all they wanted to do was to leave the party altogether, neither interested in it anyway.

After eating the food, the four of them fell into a comfortable conversation, most of the talking being done by Ethan and Naveen, with occasional inputs from both women. The chief and an attending were deep in the subject of medicine, Harper talking to the woman sitting next to her. Claire saw her opportunity, too good to let it go to waste.

She started out innocently. Her fingers grazed his knee, almost by accident. But then she did it again, more firm touch. Her hand trailed up his thigh, then down and up again. She heard his voice crack for a split second, almost undetectable, waiting for his reaction that never happened. That made her more confident in her actions. Her fingers creeped up his leg, reaching his length, covered by the pants. She ran her index finger up and down, testing waters, stroking him softly, teasing. He was trying really hard not to let it show the effect her actions had on him.

That proved to be harder than he thought, because the second she saw his reaction, she wanted more, pressing her palm against him firmly, her touch sending shocks through his body. His muscles tensed as he fought against the moan that threatened to fall from his lips. Claire, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy herself, engaging in a conversation with Harper, the two speaking about their plans for the vacation they would soon be going on. And then there was Ethan, on the verge of his release, trying his hardest to keep a straight face as she stroked him underneath the table, unfazed by it.

He could feel it coming, like a wave nearing the land, a sweet promise of crashing into him and taking him with it. But it never came. In the exact moment he was supposed to fall, their surroundings and consequences be damned, a young man approached their table.

“Good evening. My name is Noah King, pleased to make your acquaintance. Would you care to dance with me, Miss?” he extended his hand towards her, a charming smile on his face. She had no choice, no matter how much she wanted to finish what she started, she wouldn’t be able to find a valid excuse without it being suspicious.

“Of course, Mr. King.” She smiled softly, squeezing Ethan’s leg one last time before standing up, placing her other hand in the outstretched palm of a young man before her.

He was a little shorten than Ethan, his hair was black, quite long, falling softly onto his face. He placed his hand on her waist cautiously, testing to see if she was okay with it. They got into the position for a simple waltz. The music picked up, so did their movements. He started their conversation, flowing smoothly from one subject to another. That way, they spent the next few minutes, comfortable atmosphere engulfing them laughing from time to time.

The song came to its end and almost immediately she felt a tap on her shoulder.

“May I have the next dance, Dr. Herondale?” Ethan’s eyes met hers, a suspicious sparkle in his eyes.

“Of course, Dr. Ramsey.” She turned towards the older man, while the younger one thanked her for the dance, kissing her palm delicately before leaving them both.

Ethan’s arms went around her waist, pulling her close to him, their faces reasonable distance away, but close enough so that they could whisper and be heard by only each other.

“So, did you enjoy that?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She smirked, staring him dead in the eyes.

“I think you do. And I think you did enjoy that. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t insist on teasing me the way you do.” His hand lowered itself to the small of her back, suddenly pressing her even closer, their hips slamming together a little.

“Maybe I _do_. What are you going to do about it?” she laced her fingers together behind his neck, her lips hovering over his ear. A low groan escaped him, her tone provocative and suggestive.

“Meet me in the garden behind the building in ten minutes. _Don’t be late._”

The song came to an end, the last notes cutting through the room. He took her hand in his, raising it slowly to his mouth, keeping his eyes on hers as he pressed a slow kiss to her skin. Shortly after, he left, going through the double door made out of glass. She didn’t exactly know what to do with herself, ten minutes seemed like a long time. Come to think about it, she might as well use it to her advantage, tease him even more.

He was waiting for her, sitting on the bench made of stone, surrounded by the darkening sky and flowers, bushes that gave some privacy. Five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen minutes. His mind was racing, spurring on with every second she was absent from his side. Then, after twenty minutes, she emerged from the building, taking the longer road to him to avoid any suspicion. She had a smug expression on her face.

“You’re late.”

“I couldn’t get Noah away from me. He insisted on another dance, it would look suspicious if I said ‘no’”

“Oh really? Well then, you must feel pretty… _frustrated…_” he stood behind her, his hand running up and down along the line of her upper arm, tantalizingly slow. His breath fanned over her hair and the skin of her ear as he spoke. “_Let me help you with that.”_ He bit into her earlobe, eliciting a low hum in the back of her throat.

Ethan circled his one arm around her waist as his other hand slid down her body. he silently thanked her for choosing a short dress, as it made what was about to happen much easier. He traced the path from her thigh to the apex of her legs, letting his fingers run over the fabric covering her. The lacy material of her underwear, barely there, was wet, pressed flat against her flesh.

“_Christ,_ Claire, you are so wet already… admit it, you’ve been thinking about it…” he allowed himself a moment to tease her, running his finger und and down.

“Yes…” she breathed, feeling her legs getting weaker as he continued his ministrations.

“But just who could you have been thinking about… me?” his lips moved down the soft skin of her neck, reaching the place where it met her shoulder, biting down on it gently. She let out a soft moan, encouraging him to keep going.

“You.” he moved the offending material to the side, teasing the bundle of nerves with small circling motion of his thumb, making her shudder.

“Are you sure? Maybe… it was that…” he stopped talking, plunging a finger inside of her without warning, making her take in a sharp breath, a surprised whimper falling from her lips. “…boy that couldn’t seem to leave you alone. Huh? Was it him, Claire? Was he the one that you visualized? Did you imagine him doing those things to you? _Pushing you towards the edge? Seeing you fall apart?_”

His fingers were relentless, slow, deliberate strokes that left her a gasping mess, her head fell back against his shoulder as she shamelessly rode his finger, moving her hips in time with his hand.

“N-no. Only you, Ethan. You, always you.” his name fell from her lips, the most arousing sound he ever heard. His chest swelled with pride. He was the one that brought her to that state. Him.

“Be honest with me, Claire. Did you tease me for the whole evening to get a reaction?” she nodded, unable to speak, but he was not satisfied with her answer. He stopped his actions completely, waiting for her to catch up on what he wanted.

“Yes, I did that on purpose- ah!” she cried out when she felt his fingers go back to her flesh, increasing the pressure and speed.

“And did you come here late on purpose too?”

“Y-yes…”

“That King boy didn’t dance with you again, did he?”

“N-no, he didn- uh- didn’t…” she stammered again, words slowly failing her as she relented to the ministrations of his hand.

“Then why lie, Claire? What did you want to achieve by telling me that he did?”

“I… w-wanted you to be jealous. You are so _hot_ when you’re jealous.”

He removed his hand before she could get any closer to her relief, protest falling from her lips. Before she could plead her case, he pulled her towards the bench, sitting down on it, pulling her on top of him. Her hips were straddling his left leg, the dark material of his pants a little rough against her almost completely exposed skin. When he made sure she was securely resting, he leaned back, his hands on the back of the cold stone the bench was made out of. His eyes were filled with mischief and desire, dark blue in place where icy blue once was.

“_The only way you’re getting off is on my thigh._” He said, his voice smooth and deep. Their gazes locked, staring intensely at one another. Claire took in a sharp breath, his words sinking in. She was waiting, searching in his face for confirmation, but he was deadly serious. He wasn’t kidding. If she wanted to come, she’d have to do it on her own.

Her hands landed on his shoulders, fingers curling around the curves of it, her touch gentle. She tested the waters, shifting her hips a little, twisting in every direction. After a while, she moved a little more confidently, sliding up and down his leg once, twice, three times. The more she moved, the more sparks run through her. Through trial and error, she was discovering what worked for her, how to roll her hips _just right_ to hit that exact spot that made her moan. She moved faster now, her grip on his shoulders tightening.

Ethan watched, mesmerized, as she pleasured herself, using him as she wanted, angling her hips to make herself see stars. Her moves hypnotized him, the way she switched between the tantalizingly slow strokes, purposefully sliding up and down his leg, all the way from his knee to his abdomen, and fast thrusts, short snaps of her hips. She was grinding down on him, harder with every press of her body against his, and even despite the fact that she didn’t touch him directly, he could feel her effect, and it was very clearly visible.

Her head fell forward, her forehead resting on his shoulder, her breathing elevated, coming in short gasps as she continued her pleasuring, whimpering with each sensation.

“Eyes up here, beautiful. I want to see you when you fall apart.” He spoke, his voice low and sensual, words slowly pouring out of his mouth.

She reluctantly sat back up, her back straight as she locked her eyes with his. Without breaking eye contact, she increased the speed and pressure even more, circling her hips, moaning loudly, her mouth wide open, eyes clouding with the approaching release. She was close, and with a few sharp thrusts she came, screaming his name, still looking at him, giving him a first-row seat to see the undoing of her.

Her breathing came back to its normal pace, her eyes closed as she gathered her strength. He observed her with amusement, mixed with lust and need.

“That was a show I would pay to watch again…” he mused, kissing her forehead as his hand ran along her hair.

“You don’t have to pay me… but I wouldn’t protest if you wanted to thank me…” she leaned forward, kissing him teasingly, biting and tugging on his lower lip. Her knee brushed against his length, visibly restrained by the material of his pants. A low, impatient groan vibrated in his throat, telling her the most important thing in that moment.

_Time for teasing was over._

Claire stood up, pulling him by his hand to the small gazebo in the corner, overlooking the small pond in the distance. The roof was being held up by five columns, looking too inviting not to make a good use of. She turned around, tugging on his hand in one, solid stroke, pressing their bodies together. Her fingers slid down his chest, omitting the buttons, going straight for his belt and the fastening of his pants. _No time to take it slow_.

Her fingers pushed the material of his pants and underwear down, relieving him from the pressure of restraining fabric. Her hand wrapped around him, her thumb stroking the head, alternating between soft and more defined touches. She moved in a constant pace, up and down, her wrist twisting slightly with each move downwards.

“Claire…” he sent out a warning to her, informing her of how close he was and what he wanted, what he needed her to do. She understood, letting him go for a moment, placing her hands back on his shoulders. Her legs wrapped around him, first right, then left, securing herself onto him by locking her ankles behind his back, her heels digging into his skin slightly. Reaching between them, she guided him inside, and he wasted no time.

One thrust was all it took to make sure neither would be able to form a coherent thought for the minutes to come. They were lost in the sensation, blinded by the closeness, burned by the passion, the most welcome type of flames. She pushed her hips off the wall, meeting him halfway, thrust for thrust. Their lips were dancing against one another with force that was sure to leave bruises, but neither of them seemed to notice, and if they did, they didn’t care. Too lost in the sensation, too lost in each other, too lost.

Her hands ended up twisted around his strands of hair, pulling on it, hard, making his head fall back so she could kiss his neck, biting on it, sucking on the skin there. Groans and moans were escaping his mouth, one after the other, as he reacted to what she was doing to him. Claire, in turn, couldn’t get out of her head the look on his face when she was riding his thigh, the deep desire in them mixed with the need to have her close. The same combination could be seen on his face now, buried deep inside her, but it seemed as if no matter how close they were, it would never be enough. The next thing would be to open their chests and press their hearts together.

His hands were everywhere, running from her hair, down her back, squeezing and kneading her bottom roughly, tracing the lines of her thighs before hooking behind her knees, pushing himself even deeper and harder into her, pulling her even closer. The sounds she was making went straight to his head and his length, sending spikes and sparks of pleasure through his body and mind. The way she moaned when he pushed harder, the way she groaned when his hips circled or completely changed the angle. Her small whimpers when his hips snapped against hers, slowly or rapidly.

“I am _so close_…” she whispered, pulling his head closer to her body, her lips pressed against the line oh his hair. He placed his hand between their bodies, rubbing the bundle of nerves, helping her on, adjusting his movements and his thrusts to the sounds the was making. The added sensation caused her moans to get even louder than they were before.

“Claire…” he whispered, his moves becoming less and less precise, the closer they got. She bit down on his shoulder to muffle the scream that would, without a doubt, be heard back in the building. He leaned his head back, pressing his lips to her hair.

“Let go, Claire. Don’t hold back, I want to see you fall apart. Show me yourself, gorgeous. Scream my name, let everyone know who makes you see stars.” His voice was deep, almost out of breath. She tightened her legs around him, her hands back on his arms, holding on for dear life.

“Yes… right there… I’m- uh, I’m gonna… Ethan!” she reached her climax, crying out his name, smiling triumphally, her eyes closed as she rode out her release, moving her hips against him, spurring him on.

The muscles under her hands, covered by the material of his white shirt, moved and contracted. She raked her nails against the fabric, light scratches that drove him crazy and out of his mind.

“You feel incredible…” his main and only focus was her, and she wanted to see him fall, explode right then and there. Using his own method, she leaned forward, grabbing his face in her hands, bringing her lips to his ear, whispering slowly and sensually.

“Come for me, Ethan. I need to feel you let go, hard and fast. You can do it, let me see it. _Let me see you._” she bit his earlobe, eliciting a loud groan from him. Leaning back, she searched for his eyes. Darkened by lust, pupils dilated, trained on her. She squeezed him with her muscles, giving him one final push towards the edge.

He came with a strangled groan, her name painted on his face, clutching her to him, his forehead pressed against hers, eyes locked in an intimate gaze. Breathing hard, he kissed her, pouring all of his emotions into it.

After what seemed to be an eternity in each other’s arms, they finally separated, straightening their clothes and hair. He smiled, pulling her back into his arms, pressing a sweet and tender kiss to her forehead.

“That was something, Dr. Herondale.”

“Couldn’t agree more, Dr. Ramsey. And for the record…” she took a step towards the building, looking back over her shoulder at him. “… I would do it again. All of it. Just say a word.” She winked and continued her walk, back to the ball. He ran up to her, wrapping his arm around her waist as they walked.

_What did he do to deserve this?_


End file.
